


Passing Notes to Say 'I Love You'

by AceLotti



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, awkward boys being awkward, cute boys being cute, deaf!Stiles, rated M for chapter five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceLotti/pseuds/AceLotti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is Deaf. You can't just tell someone you love them. You have to show them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January: A Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Amanda for the prompt to get me writing again. Too bad I can't write one shots so this is a 13 chapter fic based on a year of Stiles and Derek's relationship in this AU. I hope you enjoy it!

 

 

January: A Meeting

 

“Dad,” Stiles signed at his webcam vigorously, a look at annoyance on his face as he Skyped with his dad over coffee in his favorite coffee shop near UC Berkley, where he went to school. “Okay, I’m explaining this to you one more time. When you’re making lasagna you need to make the bottom layer of the pan sauce so it doesn’t burn...” Every Saturday, Stiles spent the bulk of his day at The Daily Grind, the cafe across the street from his apartment, and Skyped with his friends and family back home, using the cafe’s free internet. 

 

The first few weekends were difficult, as it alway was in a new place for Stiles. Obviously he couldn’t expect people to know sign language, and he never could really sit through a speech therapy class without wanting to hurl himself out a window, so it was better to just carry around a pad of paper. Luckily for the girl who worked behind the counter, Mint Tea was easy to write out, and over the last few months, they’d developed their own silent exchange each morning. 

 

A tap at his shoulder made him pause his conversation with his dad to look up. Lizzie, the barista who worked Saturday afternoons, smiled and gave him a little wave and placed a fresh cup of tea in front of him. He signed a thank you to her and she winked before heading behind the counter. When he turned back to the computer, his father was smiling, obviously chuckling. 

 

“Your girlfriend?” he teased. Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head and continued his instructions for lasagna he knew his father wouldn’t follow.

 

Stiles didn’t hear the little bell ring each time someone walked through the door. Nor did he hear the above-average volume of jazz music that played through the cafe, but Derek did, and it made him scowl just a little as he walked in and headed to the counter. 

 

“Hi Derek,” Lizzie said. Derek couldn’t remember her name though, no matter how many times he’d been here. So he nodded silently. “You’re never here on a Saturday, changing things up?” She asked as she made his usual coffee order.

 

“I’ve got about a thousand essays on Hamlet to grade,” Derek said, regretting his decision to become a TA every time he said that sentence. He was dreading the amount of run-ons he was about to encounter. 

 

“Well it’s pretty quiet here today, so you’re in luck. Just that couple in the corner snogging and me and Stiles,” she pointed to the boy in the middle of the cafe who was sipping his tea. Derek nodded and thanked her before heading to the table with an outlet, which happened to be at the table across from where that Stiles guy was sitting. Whatever, he wasn’t making any noise. Derek plugged in and uploaded the essays he was supposed to be grading. 

 

He worked in peace for a good fifteen minutes before he noticed his coffee was gone. He needed a refill and a bathroom break. The guy in front of him, whose name he already forgot, seemed like he was conducting a mini orchestra in his seat. Derek thought it was strange, the guy wasn’t even listening to music. “Hey,” Derek said. He didn’t look up. He waved his hand in the guy’s general direction until he looked up, brown eyes wide. Maybe he was embarrassed he got caught doing whatever he was doing. “Can you keep an eye on my stuff while I use the bathroom?” The boy stared at him for a minute, blinked twice, and then gave a thumbs up, even though his face was confused. “Thanks.” Derek stood up and headed to the back where the bathroom was. 

 

When he finished and washed his hands, he headed to the counter. “Another?” Lizzie asked. Derek nodded. She started to make the espresso shots. “He’s deaf, by the way.” Derek rose an eyebrow. “Stiles, the guy you're sitting with. He can’t hear you.” Well, now Derek felt like an asshole. He wasn’t conducting, he was signing, probably on webcam. 

 

That made more sense now that he thought of it. “Oh,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say.

 

“It’s alright, you didn’t know. I just thought I should tell you since he’s been chancing glances at you ever since you sat down.” Lizzie grinned. She handed Derek his drink. “On the house, cause I’m in a good mood,” she smiled. Derek thanked her, smiled and headed back to his seat. Stiles smiled up at him, gave him another thumbs up, and turned back to his laptop. 

 

Derek didn’t go back to work though. He found himself much too interested in the boy across from him. His hands flailed, even as he signed, and his facial expressions were so excessive Derek wondered if the guy even needed sign language. He almost knocked over his drink twice. After a few minutes, Stiles paused and looked up and their eyes met for a brief moment. Stiles smiled and Derek was embarrassed for being caught staring and looked down at his computer screen, feeling his cheeks blush. The charade went on like that for the next couple of hours. Derek got a grand total of five essays finished, about twenty-five less than he wanted to do. It was getting dark though and he had to get home soon. Regretfully, he packed up his laptop and tossed his four - oh god did he really drink FOUR - cups of coffee, before thinking Lizzie and even mustering up enough spine to wave at Stiles and smile before he shouldered his bag and headed out the front door, the echo of the door following him down the pathway. 

 

That wasn’t the only sound following him though, and Derek froze mid-step, turning on his heels to see Stiles hurrying after him, hands flailing. Derek couldn’t help but smirk, he looked kind of ridiculous. “What’s up?” he asked before he could catch himself. He’d forgotten Stiles couldn’t hear him. Stiles’ hands flailed a bit, apparently he had forgotten Derek was hearing. He froze, hands in the air, and sighed, smiling at him, before taking out a small notebook in his pocket.

 

_Name?_

 

Derek read it, unsure for a minute until he realized Stiles didn’t know his name. He took the pen and wrote it down. Stiles smiled and flipped to a new page, scribbling quickly before tearing it out and handing it to Derek.

 

_Stiles. 415-228-5503_

 

A phone number? But how could Stiles talk on the phone if... Stiles snatched the paper away and added a sentence. 

 

_Stiles. 415-228-5503. I text._

 

Derek smiled then and Stiles beamed back. Then he shivered in the cold and pointed a thumb over his shoulder, signaling he was going back inside. Derek nodded and Stiles ran off. Before he even moved, Derek pulled out his phone and entered the new number, sending Stiles a text.

 

_Derek: Hi_

 

Behind him, Derek heard Stiles stop, but he didn’t turn around. Then the boy let out a short but hearty laugh and Derek couldn’t keep from smiling. 

 

_Stiles: Hi_


	2. February: An Awkward Date

February: An Awkward Date

The next month went by rather quickly. Derek and Stiles texted daily, a flow of easy conversation that had started off with just a couple texts through out the day about the weather or something like that resembling small talk. It escalated to good morning texts and goodnight texts. To Derek staying up all night texting Stiles to keep him awake while writing his physics lab and Stiles sending words of encouragement when Derek was too nervous to turn in his job applications for after grad school. 

 

All in all, Derek was pretty happy with his textual relationship with Stiles. Until he received this doozy. 

 

_Stiles: So...are you going to ask me out or what?_

 

Derek stared at the text for four whole hours. His roommate was concerned that he might have had a stroke. “Dude,” Boyd had said, shaking his shoulder. “Derek are you breathing?” Derek nodded and Boyd snatched the phone away.

 

“Hey!”

 

“This is that guy you’ve been talking to?” Boyd asked, dropping on the couch next to him and scrolling through Derek’s texts. “Why haven’t you asked him out yet?” Derek just blinked at Boyd. “Dude, you’re kinda crazy about him, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

 

“I...” Derek started. “I don’t know...I don’t know how...”

 

“Is it because he’s deaf?” Boyd asked, handing him back his phone.

 

“No!” He said quickly. “Well...I mean.”

 

“Dude.”

 

“No it’s not because he’s deaf, it’s just...like what are we supposed to do? I don’t even know how to talk to him...”

 

“Maybe he has an idea, but he’s not going to tell you unless you grow a pair and ask the poor kid out!” Derek signed and looked at the message from Stiles. Boyd did have a point...

\------------- 

“Scott I’m freaking out,” Stiles signed frantically as he sat at his computer. “Oh my god he hasn’t responded in 3 hours...”

 

“You’re doing that frantic signing thing where I can only see half of what you’re saying,” Scott typed out. “Dude relax.” Stiles took a deep breath, but he wasn’t any more calm. He settled on typing his nervous breakdown to his best friend.

 

“What if I came on too strong? Maybe I should have just asked him out instead of putting this pressure on him?” Stiles typed. “What if I misread things and he doesn’t even like me like that...”

 

“Dude, I’ve read those texts, he likes you,” Scott typed. “Maybe he’s working, he’ll get back to you.”

 

“Maybe...” Stiles sighed. Just then his phone vibrated in his pocket and he jumped wildly. On the webcam, Scott shook his head at him.

 

_Derek: Stiles would you like to go out with me?_

 

Stiles wondered if his heart would every go back to it’s normal rate ever again. He flailed excitedly and fell off the desk chair and yelped. When he scrambled back into his chair, Scott was laughing. “Shut up,” he signed, rolling his eyes. 

 

“So did he ask you out?” Scott typed. Stiles nodded excitedly. Then his face fell a little in  confusion. “What?”

 

“What do you do with a hearing person on a date?” Stiles signed. Scott opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Finally, he shrugged. 

 

“Allison and I went to the movies,” Scott signed. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

 

“That was your second date,” he typed out lazily. “Your first one consisted of making out in the locker room after a lacrosse game.” 

 

“That could be an option, I’m sure Berkeley has a locker room you could use...” Again, Stiles signed for him to shut up. Maybe they’d figure something out later. He pulled out his phone and sent a response to Derek. 

 

_Stiles: Yes_

_____________________________________

 

Derek picked up Stiles at his dorm room, waving awkwardly when Stiles did and grabbed his coat. He suddenly realized he would’t know how to have a conversation with him and how long could this date go without them saying a word to each other? He led Stiles down the street, right off campus where this pizza place Stiles had mentioned was. They walked in silence for a while, but Stiles seemed content, probably used to it. When they reached the restaurant and sat down, both Stiles and Derek drummed their fingers on the table for a minute or two, both of them looking around the place, trying to think of something. Derek was out of his element. Usually, he was smooth sailing when it came to dating, he just never realized how hard it would be to be on a date where you can’t communicate.

 

When he looked back to Stiles, the younger student was doodling on a napkin. Great, Derek was officially the most boring date ever. He’d forced his date to resort to coloring on the paper tablecloth.

 

After a minute though, Stiles looked up at Derek and handed him his napkin. Derek looked confused and took it, looking down at the message Stiles wrote. 

 

_I’ve never been on a date with a hearing person before, so this is new for me too. I can read lips, if that helps and you don’t mind me writing a response..._

 

Derek sighed in relief. He hadn’t bored Stiles to tears yet. He looked up at Stiles, who was biting his lip anxiously, obviously waiting to see if Derek was just going to up and leave or if he’d play along with this song and dance they called communication. “So,” Derek said, and he saw a flash of concentration on Stiles’ face and he watched Derek speak. “What kind of pizza do you want?” Stiles let out a small laugh. He took the crayon on the table and wrote upside-down so it faced Derek.

 

_Pepperoni and Pineapple_

 

Derek looked at Stiles like he was nuts. The boy looked back with a grin on his face and a shrug. At that moment, their waitress came to take their order. “Um...one pepperoni and pineapple pizza.” He made a face at Stiles who was giggling. “And a bunch of napkins please?” 

 

It turned out pepperoni and pineapple pizza was pretty damn good, and once they figured out a mean of communication, the date started to go a bit more smoothly. On occasion, Derek would forget Stiles couldn’t hear him and would look away when talking to him, and he’d have to repeat himself and look back at him. Other times Stiles would just reply in sign, hands flailing wildly and Derek would have to reach over and grab his hands and remind him he couldn’t sign. 

 

He learned a little though. Stiles taught him to sign his name, which Derek did slowly, but well according to Stiles. When dinner was paid for they both signed thank-you to their waitress as they left the pizza place and walked back in the direction of Stiles’ apartment. It was harder to make conversation then, but to Derek, the walk was less awkward. At least he wasn’t panicking about what they’d do on their date. Two blocks down, Stiles reached out and laced his fingers with Derek’s cautiously. Derek looked down at their entwined fingers and smiled. Stiles smiled back, squeezing his hand a little as they rounded onto his block. Derek’s pockets were filled with napkins from the restaurant, Stiles’ notes and stories that he’d written out to him. He wished they had gone to a restaurant farther away, he didn’t want the date to end yet. 

 

When they reached Stiles’ front stoop, they both stood there quietly, looking at each other, not sure what to do next. “I had fun,” Derek said honestly, making sure he was looking at Stiles as he spoke. Stiles nodded, too shy to actually speak, he just smiled in return. He made a motion with his hands, looking like he was texting and then pointed to Derek, who understood and nodded. 

 

Stiles rocked on his heels and reached into his pocket, grabbing his keys. He put them in the notch in the doorway and then turned to Derek, smiling and waving in a flailed, awkward motion. When he turned back to unlock the door, however, Derek stepped closer, taking the hand Stiles had waved and pulled the boy closer. Stiles gasped quietly and Derek leaned in, kissing him softly. Stiles breathed in sharply through his nose, but didn’t hesitate to kiss Derek back, wrapping his free arm around Derek’s neck, leaning into the kiss. Now this was something they didn’t need words to communicate with.

 

When they pulled back, Stiles’ fingers were entwined in Derek’s hair. They were breathing deeply, foreheads pressed together. Derek was still holding Stiles’ hand, his other hand gripping the back of his shirt. Derek pulled back just a little so that Stiles could see his lips. 

 

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” he said with a grin. Stiles nodded and Derek turned away, waving and heading to his car. Stiles took an extra minute to get into the building and again into his apartment, his knees shaking and head spinning. Once inside his apartment, Stiles yelled out and threw himself on his sofa, flailing so hard he fell onto the floor. 


	3. March: A Miscommunication

March: A Miscommunication

Derek and Stiles did pretty well from that awkward date onward. They’d text everyday. Saturdays were spent at The Daily Grind together, where Derek would grade papers and Stiles would catch up with his father and his friends back in Beacon Hills. At least once a week, they’d go out on a date, trying to find something they’d both enjoy. Last week, Stiles tried taking Derek to a foreign film with subtitles, but the plot was lame and half way through the movie Stiles climbed into Derek’s lap and they made out until the cleaning crew had to ask them to leave. 

 

When Derek wasn’t grading papers as a TA or working on his senior project for Berkeley, he was googling different signs he’d be able to use with Stiles, to make the flow of communication easier. So far he could fingerspell and sign “yes”, “no” , “okay”, and “thank you” which was useful, but Derek could tell sometimes it would annoy Stiles to have to spell everything on occasion. On the opposite end, Stiles was becoming more comfortable using his voice, but only in private. He was embarrassed he would be too loud, or his words would be too slurred and people would stare. Even when they were alone, Stiles would only speak in singular word answers. Even so, however, they were starting to get into a communication pattern. 

 

Today, it was storming. Rain beat hard against the glass windows of the coffee shop as Derek rushed inside, hugging his laptop case to his chest. He took off his raincoat and hung it up by the door. Stiles was on the other side of the cafe, pressing the side of the head against the window, his eyes closed. “Hi Lizzie,” Derek waved to the barista, smiling. 

 

“Hey Derek, pretty bad out there?” Lizzie asked as she made Derek’s standard drink. He nodded and paid her before going over to sit next to Stiles, looking at him confused. Stiles opened his eyes, smirked at Derek’s facial expression, and pointed to his pad of paper by his computer. 

 

_I like the rain, I can almost feel the sound._

 

Derek looked at it for a minute, read it a couple times, and then smiled at the boy, leaning over and kissing his cheek. Stiles smiled but didn’t move his head for another minute, not until the Skype icon was flashing on his computer and he sat up and connected the call with his dad. 

 

Derek opened his own laptop. Today he needed to write an essay of his own, based on a book he was assigned in class. Normally very good about reading the assignment, Derek hadn’t even bought this book, too busy with other things and having a bit of senioritus as the months closed in on graduation. He’d just have to wing it and pull up the book on Spark Notes. 

 

Beside him, Stiles was in full-sign-mode, hands flailing exuberantly as he told his father about his week. He was much faster than he was when he signed at Derek, and Derek figured he was cutting off parts of words, having some slang or understanding with his father that he didn’t share with Derek. His movements were so erratic that he almost spilled his tea twice. Derek finally took it away and Stiles rolled his eyes at him, but moments later, knocked Derek’s coffee to the floor. With a fist to his chest, Stiles frowned and made a circular motion, signing ‘sorry’ and mouthed the word. Luckily, most of it was on the floor, so Derek stuck his tongue out playfully and grabbed the cup to get a refill. As he stood up, Stiles grabbed at his sleeve and tugged at him, pulling him back down. Derek followed the pull and leaned into a kiss. Stiles smiled against Derek’s lips, kissing him slowly and softly. Derek cupped the back of his neck with his free hand, holding him still and he kissed him deeper. 

 

“Um...hi?” Derek jumped at the sound and Stiles was confused for a minute before Derek pointed at the computer screen and Stiles’ face drained of color. He had forgotten he was on a Skype call with his dad, and he had just given him a nice show of him kissing Derek. Great. 

 

Derek hurried to the counter, face red. Lizzie had seen the whole ordeal and was giggling, but offered to make Derek a free replacement drink. He thanked her and left a tip before going back to the table he and Stiles were sharing. Hands were flying again, Stiles seemed slightly annoyed and Derek frowned. He was about to ask what was wrong when Stiles tugged Derek’s arm again, making him scoot his chair over and pulling him into frame. 

 

_Dad, this is my boyfriend Derek._

 

Stiles pressed send and then pointed at Derek and then the laptop. “Hello sir,” Derek said, waving awkwardly. 

 

“Oh you can hear,” Stiles father said. “I thought that’s what Stiles said but he signs so fast I only get half of the things he’s saying sometimes.”

 

“That’s more than I get,” Derek said. The sheriff laughed.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll pick up,” he said. “Stiles is making the ‘dad stop embarrassing me face’ so I’ll let you go, I expect to meet you in person soon, Derek.” 

 

“Yes sir,” Derek said, and with another awkward wave he was back at his computer. Stles kissed his cheek and then turned back to his dad, asking him in sign what he had said to Derek. He quickly wrote out a note on his notepad. 

 

_Did he threaten your life? He’s a sheriff, he has a shotgun._

 

Derek laughed and shook his head, and Stiles sighed in relief. 

 

A couple hours later, Derek was finishing up his essay and Stiles had resorted to Tumblr after hanging up with Scott. Derek’s stomach started to rumble and he realized he hadn’t eaten yet today. 

 

Now...he new the word for hungry right? Checking to see if Stiles was looking (which he wasn’t) Derek switched browser pages to the ASL website he was on and searched the word he was looking for. At least ‘hungry’ was an easy word. He just had to make a C with his hand, face his fingers toward his chest, and make a downward motion. Derek’s stomach growled again, he was REALLY hungry. 

 

Derek tapped Stiles’ shoulder, a habit he started especially when he wanted to try signing and Stiles was willing to help. Stiles turned from the blue abyss of the internet and looked at Derek, smiling. Derek tried the sign, moving his hand up and down several times to show his need for food. Stiles blinked at him and cocked his head to the side. Derek sighed and tried again, but Stiles snickered and Derek dropped his hands. “Whaaaaaat?” he whined. Stiles giggled again and kissed Derek quickly before pulling out a pad of paper.

 

_Are you telling me you’re hungry or you’re horny?_  

 

Derek gawked at Stiles and took the pen, circling ‘hungry’ which made Stiles laugh more. He took the pen back and wrote more. 

 

_One motion = hungry, several times = horny. And here I thought you were coming onto me_

 

He was smirking and Derek blushed, hiding his face in his laptop keyboard. Stiles even laughed out loud, one of his rare laughs that were usually saved for his private moments with Derek. He made a sign, but Derek was still hiding his face, so he wrote it out and poked Derek until he was sitting up, face red. 

 

_You’re cute. Lunch?_

 

Derek sighed and nodded and Stiles leaned over and kissed his cheek. They gathered their things and waved goodbye to Lizzie, hands clasped together. 

 

Over lunch, Stiles taught Derek every dirty word he knew how to sign. 


	4. April: A Secret and A Confession

April: A Secret and A Confession

Stiles straddled Derek’s lap, pushing him back against the couch and kissing his neck, making Derek moan and buck his hips. Derek’s hands were roaming underneath Stiles’ shirts, trying to pull them off and expose more and more skin. At another bite, Derek turned his head and captured Stiles’ lips, kissing him fervently, fingers lacing with Stiles’ hair and grasping on tight, making him whimper into the kiss. Stiles was about two seconds from successfully taking Derek’s shirt off when something in Derek’s pants started to vibrate. Stiles pulled back and rose an eyebrow at Derek suggestively. 

 

“Shut up,” Derek rolled his eyes as he pulled the still vibrating phone out of his front pocket. Stiles mimed zipping his lip and throwing away the key, making Derek snort as he turned off the alarm. “Shit!” he swore, dialing a number and putting the phone to his ear. Stiles, ever determined to get Derek’s shirt off, ignored the fact his boyfriend was on the phone and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses up Derek’s throat. 

 

“Dude, Boyd,” Derek said into his phone. “Can you pick me up on the way to... _oh my god_... to class? I totally forgot and I’mmmmmmm still at Stiles’...” He squirmed and looked down at Stiles with a glare, but the boy only grinned back triumphantly and moved to suck at his skin again. 

 

“ _Gee are you, I couldn’t tell..._ ” Boyd deadpanned. “Yeah, I’ll be there in 5, or else we’re going to be late.” 

 

“Thanks,” Derek quickly hung up the phone and tossed it aside, growling a little as he tackled Stiles, rolling them both off the couch. The boys ended up in a fit of laugher that shook them both. Derek sighed and buried his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck, breathing before sitting up so he could face Stiles. 

 

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly, frowning when Stiles did. 

 

“No,” Stiles signed, using his other hand to hold Derek to him tight.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, signing it slowly. “I have...a thing...” Stiles raised an eyebrow.

 

“Thing?” he said aloud, checking to see if he read Derek’s lips right. Derek nodded, another apologetic look on his face. Just then, the lights flashed on and off in the house, the signal that Stiles’ doorbell was being rung. Stiles sighed and so did Derek as they got off the floor and made themselves presentable. Stiles fixed Derek’s colar so that it hid the hickey on his neck and kissed his cheek. He signed that he’d seen him tomorrow and even waved at Boyd with a smile on his face as they left. Once the door was shut though, he was frowning and pacing the apartment. 

 

This was the third time Derek’s run out cause of “things” and it had Stiles in a panic. Where was he going? Why was it a secret? Stiles froze, his eyes wide in horror. Was Derek cheating on him? They’ve been together a little over two months was he bored of Stiles already? Stiles dropped to his spot on the couch, clutching his heart. He wasn’t positive, but Stiles had a pretty clear guess that it would actually kill him if Derek was cheating on him. He liked the guy so much, Stiles could even say he...

 

He shook his head and stood up. No. He wasn’t going to speculate. He was going to get to the bottom of this. The next time Derek ran off because of “things,” Stiles would follow him, and find out the truth for himself. 

\------------------------------------------------------

 

It just so happened, “things” came up again two nights later. They were watching a movie, “Star Wars” with out subtitles since Stiles knew every word by heart anyway, when Derek’s pocket vibrated yet again and he apologized as he left in haste, kissing Stiles on the way out the door. The second Derek was gone, Stiles rolled out of bed and  took the stairs, seeing Derek get into his Camaro and drive off. Stiles hopped on his bike (Derek would notice the Jeep) and followed Derek.

 

Lucky for Stiles, Derek wasn’t going far. In fact, he stayed on campus. _That’s strange_ , Stiles thought. If he was just leaving from the dorms, he could have walked, even come back and seen Stiles when he was done if he wanted to. Derek parked the Camaro in the parking lot and carried his briefcase full of paperwork into the closest building. Stiles was struck with a horrible thought. Derek was a TA, what if he was sneaking off to screw around with a student?! Or a TEACHER?!

 

Stiles shook his head. He watched too much porn these days, surely Derek wasn’t doing that, he wasn’t that horrible of a person. Still, Stiles stole himself for the worst and went inside just to see Derek knock on the last door in the hall. Stiles hid behind a Coke machine and watched as the office door opened and a blonde woman stepped out. They greeted each other with smiles and the woman _hugged_ Derek before letting him inside. 

 

Stiles threw his hands up, silently screaming as he paced the width of the hallway. He couldn’t believe this! Derek was cheating on him! DEREK WAS CHEATING ON HIM!

 

Stiles’ back hit the wall and he slid to the floor, horror struck, clutching his chest where his shattering heart beat quickly. Derek was cheating on him? He couldn’t believe this. 

 

Slowly, Stiles got up and walked to the end of the hall outside the unmarked room Derek was in now. He sat on the floor across from it, deciding he wanted to confront his boyfriend the second he could, but not willing to walk in and actually see him in the act. Stiles didn’t think he could stomach it. 

 

After a while, a look at his watch said that he’d been there for two hours. _Holy shit Derek ...talk about stamina!_ Stiles was just about to give up, standing up and wiping off his pants, when the door opened and he was face to face with Derek and _her_. The anger boiled up again.

 

“Stiles?” Derek tilted his head to the side. 

 

“Yes it’s me!” He yelled and signed at the same time. “Your boyfriend’s here now so the sex can stop!” He flailed his hands, glaring at the woman. 

 

“What?” Derek asked. He looked so confused. The woman next to him, all blonde hair and boobs popping out and red lipstick - god Stiles hated her - was giggling and she whispered something at Derek that made him pale. 

 

“HEY! Deaf guy over here!” He signed angrily. 

 

“Stiles,” Derek signed, walking over and clutching his shoulders. “Baby read my lips. I’m not cheating on you.”

 

“Then who is she?” Stiles signed, pointing at the woman, not caring that Derek probably wasn’t following the conversation anymore. 

 

“Erica,” Derek signed. “She’s a friend, a TA.”

 

“I’m tutoring him in ASL,” she signed fluidly, catching Stiles off-guard. “An hour of ASL in exchange for an hour of free essay editing.” Stiles blinked at her several times before turning back to Derek and making a small sign. “He says he’s an idiot...”

 

“I got that, thanks Erica,” Derek said over his shoulder. He led Stiles down the hall a little, away from a gleaming Erica. “I’ve been learning ASL,” he signed, not moving his lips. “So we can communicate better. I wanted to surprise you.”

 

“Consider me surprised,” Stiles signed back, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Me too,” Derek signed. “I love you Stiles, I’m not going to cheat on you, especially with Erica,” he stuck his tongue out after signing Erica’s name. Stiles giggled but it was cut short. He looked up at Derek, smiling widely. 

 

“You love me?” he signed, hands shaking. This time, Derek blushed and ran his hands through his hair. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to him that this was the first time he had told Stiles this fact. He nodded though, biting his lip. 

 

“I do,” Derek said, matching Stiles’ smile. Stiles yelped, over-joyed and leapt into Derek’s arms, kissing him soundly. 

 

“I love you too,” Stiles signed, hands shaking again. Derek laughed, his face looked relieved. He leaned forward and captured Stiles in a fierce kiss. Neither of them were aware of Erica rolling her eyes and walking down the hall, waving a good-luck to the two of them. 


	5. May: A Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS SEX/SMUT/PORN/MALE ANATOMY in this chapter.  
> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.  
> It'll most likely be the only chapter with sex though, just saying.

May: A Celebration

The clock was ticking, Derek could swear he could hear it as he started in on his conclusion for his essay final. He was so ready to get rid of this Shakespeare class, if he had to spend another minute analyzing Romeo and Juliet, he was going to stab something. The teacher walked up and down the aisles of desks, looking over shoulders, tutting. She made a short humming sound when she passed Derek and he decided when he went on his Shakespeare killing spree, she was going to be first to feel his wrath. 

 

He looked down at his bluebook and took a breath. After finishing and going over the essay for grammar check, he stood up, shoved the things in his backpack, threw the bluebook on the professor’s desk, and all but ran out the door. Once he was outside, Derek let out the loudest yelp he could manage, practically in tears as he threw his arms in the air and fell back onto the grass in front of the classroom building. He was done with College, he just finished his last final for Berkley  _ever_ and he was DONE! 

 

Derek couldn't remember the last time he was this...happy. He was getting his Masters degree in English with a teaching credential. He hadn't gone on a murderous rampage during Shakespeare class. He had a job for the summer shadowing one of his professors during summer school where he'd get to teach a few lectures...

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see a message from Stiles. 

 

_Stiles: So do we have to go on the lamb? Or did you decide to spare your poor teacher her life?_

 

_Derek: She deserved it, she hated me. But she's still alive, the school still has my diploma, I'd hate for them to keep it hostage_

 

_Stiles: Sometimes I'm worried that I'm in love with a crazy person_

 

Derek laughed. Stiles. The thing that made him the most happy was that he had Stiles. 

 

Derek got off the grass, wiped dirt off his back, and headed off campus, driving his car to his apartment, still elated about the end of the school year. He felt like he could sing! (It was a good thing he had a deaf boyfriend because Derek was no American Idol). He ran up the stairs to his apartment and put his key in the door, surprised to find it unlocked. Slowly, he opened the front door, had about three seconds to notice how highly decorated his apartment was and then he was nearly barreled over as Stiles ran across the room and leapt into his arms, kissing him fiercely, wrapping his legs around Derek's waist.  

 

"I'm so proud of you Derek," Stiles signed excitedly, hands flailing all over the place as Derek held him up. He nearly hit Derek's face three times before giving up on signing and grabbing his face and kissing him again. Derek smiled into the kiss, holding him close and kissing him back. When Stiles pulled away they were breathless and the boy’s back was up against the wall. Derek used the wall as leverage so Stiles could lean back and Derek could use his hands to sign. “You decorated.”

 

“The guy at Party City thought I was on drugs,” Stiles signed, laughing. Then he made a face, like he had just remembered something, and wiggled until Derek let him go and he ran over to the kitchen, grabbed something, and ran back, tripping only once over the end table by the sofa. “I know you’re not doing the ceremony but...” Stiles unwrapped the black square and revealed a paper party had shaped like a graduation cap. He placed it on Derek’s head, even as the older man rolled his eyes fondly. 

 

“How do I look?” Derek signed, blushing slightly. Stiles was beaming, circling his hands in front of his chest with open palms. 

 

“Happy,” he signed, leaning in to hug him again, kissing his cheek. “I love you,” he said aloud, quietly and muffled into the skin of Derek’s neck. Derek grinned and kissed Stiles again. The kiss started off gentle but it escalated quickly. Soon, Stiles was again up against the wall, this time in Derek’s bedroom (also decorated with every graduation accessory Party City had) and neither of them were wearing shirts. Stiles gasped as Derek bit down on the boy’s shoulder. Derek made a note to tell Stiles he babbled during foreplay. Unclear, pretend words that drove Derek up the wall with lust. Stiles shoved at Derek, pushing him backwards until he fell back on the bed and Stiles crawled on top of him, kissing up his bare chest, biting him roughly and making Derek growl, his whole chest vibrating with the sound, making Stiles grin mischievously as he bit Derek again. 

 

Derek’s fingers worked nimbly on Stiles’ pants, ripping them off and tossing them across the room. He flipped them over and Stiles let out a breathy gasp. He reached up for Derek and cupped the back of his neck, bringing him in for a crashing kiss. Stiles whimpered into the kiss while Derek tore off their boxers. He took both their dicks in his hand and began to stroke slowly, grinning when Stiles threw his head back to moan and Derek swooped in to suck and bite at his neck. 

 

“Oh...Derek...So good...I...” Stiles babbled, and Derek loved it. He picked up his pace and Stiles let out another groan, gripping at Derek as if he was hanging on for dear life. Derek sat back enough to watch him. Stiles was fucking beautiful when he was falling apart. His moles stuck out more against his flushed skin. His lips were a bright, swollen red and his eyes were dark with lust, his pupils blown wide. Derek watched his boyfriend breathing heavily, occasionally slipping words as Derek pumped their cocks, now slick with pre-cum. He had tried to see something, Derek saw the twitch in his hands, but Stiles was too far gone and had given up on any actual conversation. 

 

Soon enough, his gasps became more erratic and he was squirming beneath Derek. “Derek...” he moaned. Stiles sat up  and clung to Derek, bucking into his hand. “Derek...DEREK!” He shouted out as he came all over them as Derek stroked them through it, his own orgasm following Stiles’. Derek pressed his face in Stiles’ throat and groaned as he released, feeling Stiles gripping his hair. 

 

They toppled to the bed, all heavy breathing and soft kisses. Stiles rolled on top of Derek, kissing him quickly because he couldn’t contain his smile. “I love you,” Stiles signed quickly, blushing and ducking his head shyly. Derek grinned and leaned up to kiss him. 

 

“I love you too,” he signed back. Stiles draped himself over Derek, tracing invisible patterns on Derek’s chest lazily. Derek cradled an arm behind his head, the other rubbing up and down Stiles’ back. He looked up and noticed for the first time the “CON _GRAD_ ULATIONS!” banner hanging over their heads on the ceiling. He pointed up to it and gave Stiles a look that was practically screaming ‘ _REALLY? Stiles? Really?_ ’

 

Stiles looked up and just laughed out loud, burying his face in Derek’s chest until his laughter subsided. He sat up enough to use his hands and signed. “Wait until you see the bathroom!” 


	6. June: A Separation

June: A Separation

“Stiles...” Derek nudged his boyfriend sleepily. The boy was draped over his chest, drooling as he snored softly. Stiles’ phone vibrated on the bed, which is what woke Derek immediately. Stiles snoozed on however. Annoyed, Derek shook him violently until Stiles raised a hand and smushed Derek’s face as if he was the god forsaken alarm clock. 

 

Stiles grumbled, pressing his face into Derek’s neck, clinging to him tight. Derek held him bwith an equally firm grip. Stiles’ last day of school was yesterday. And today he was going to drive back home. To Beacon Hills. Four hours away. For three months. Without Derek. 

 

The thought put a brick in Derek’s stomach. 

 

Stiles must have been feeling the same way because he was still clinging to Derek, mumbling about not wanting to go. Derek sat up and kissed Stiles’ forhead. 

 

“Come with me,” Stiles signed. Derek frowned. “I know you can’t, you have work...” Derek sighed and kissed Stiles again. 

 

“Just for the summer...” Derek sighed.

 

“That’s three months!” Stiles pouted. Derek did too. He didn’t want Stiles to go, and honestly, he’d ask him to stay if it wasn’t for the fact the dorms were closed for the summer and Stiles needed the time with his dad.

 

It took them another hour to get out of Derek’s bed. They held each other, communicating through kisses and soft touches, with Stiles wrapped up in Derek’s arms. Eventually, Stiles got hungry and they rolled out of the bed, Stiles intent on using Derek’s kitchen, since his dorm didnt have one and he missed cooking. Derek disappeared for a bit, Stiles assumed to go get dressed, and he went about making pancakes. When Derek finally emerged from his room, their food was ready, and they ate pancakes and discussed everything under the sun that didn’t have to do with Stiles going hime until there was a pause in the conversation and Derek saw the worried look on Stiles’ face. 

 

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” He asked, concerned as he placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles frowned down at his empty plate. 

 

“Will you still be here when I move back?” Stiles signed slowly. Derek nodded. “Will you still love me?”

 

“Oh Stiles...” Derek whispered, pulling him closer and kissing him softly. “Yes,” he signed. “I’ll still love you. We’ll Skype and things, maybe I’ll even get a break and visit. But I’m not going to fall out of love with you because we’re apart.”

 

“Promise?” Stiles asked, and Derek mimed crossing his heart. Stiles looked relieved as he leaned into Derek for a hug.

 

Around noon, Derek walked Stiles out to his packed Jeep. “Text me when you’re home?” Derek asked and Stiles nodded, kissing him before getting into the Jeep and turning the ignition. Derek gave the sign “I love you” through the window and the backed away so that Stiles could drive off. Derek waited until the Jeep rounded the corner and the headed back into his apartment. Suddenly, his apartment lacked something, and Derek knew exactly who that something was. It wasn’t that Stiles had moved in (if anything, he really only spent weekends here), but there were little pieces of Stiles around the apartment that made Derek miss his boyfriend already. 

 

There was his DVD case on the coffee table. Last weekend, they stayed up for 48 hours watching all eight Harry Potter movies and Derek dried for a good hour and a half because Dobby died. The bathroom had his toothbrush that was actually an extra of Derek’s but Stiles used it every time he came over so it was unofficially his. There was the mess from the pancakes and the fact that Derek even _had_ pancake mix was a sign Stiles was a constant presence in his life. 

 

Derek was falling hard and fast for a guy he only knew for a few months, and the scary thing was, it didn’t scare him one bit. 

\---____----____----_-___-_-

 

Stiles made it home safely, everything in one piece. His dad was standing on the porch with open arms and as much as Stiles missed Derek, his missed his father more, and he ran into the Sheriff’s arms, refusing to let go for a good minute. They talked, Stiles told him about school and his plans for his last year at Berkeley and of course, he told him about Derek. His dad made his famous burnt lasagna, so they ordered pizza and watched baseball until it was dark out and Stiles realized exactly how tired he was. 

 

He dragged his duffle bag upstairs (the rest of the unpacking could wait until the next day) and dug through it looking for his pajama bottoms. As he fished them out of the bag, a piece of paper fell to the floor and Stiles picked it up curiously. 

 

_Stiles -_

_I miss you already. You’re in the kitchen right now making pancakes and I miss you. I’m going to miss spending Saturdays with you at the coffee shop. I’m going to miss each time you laugh out loud at me when I mix up signs and end up asking you for a octopus instead of a pen. I’m going to miss those Sunday’s when you stay over and I wake up to your stupid vibrating alarm clock that you do. not. wake. up. to. so I have to shake and tickle and kiss you awake. I’ve never wanted a summer vacation to go by so fast._

 

_I’ll see you on Skype, but until then, I’ll be missing you_

 

_Love, Derek_

 

_PS: There’s a rumor the TA’s may get a week off in July, cross your fingers._

 

Stiles was in tears, happy, smiling tears, when he dropped back onto the bed. He grabbed his phone and opened a text to Derek. 

 

_Stiles: ILOVEYOU!!!!!_

 

_Derek: Good, you’re home safe, I was about to call a search party._

 

Stiles blushed, in his excitement to see his dad, he forgot to tell Derek he was home. 

 

_Derek: I love you too, Stiles. Skype tomorrow?_

 

_Stiles: Definitely._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short. If things don't get too crazy today, you might even get another chapter tonight/tomorrow.....


	7. July: A Visit

July: A Visit

During the summers, Stiles worked at a Deaf Day Camp that was held in the woods in Beacon Hills. Deaf kids and even kids going deaf were pulled from the tri-state area and spent a week from 9-5 doing arts and crafts, swimming in the lake, and whatever else kids did at normal-kid camp. 

 

When Stiles was younger, he hated this place, now it was his favorite times of year. He was placed today at the Art’s and Craft table, painting their favorite thing about camp. The kid next to him, a boy name Lucas, was painting a picture of what looked like lunch. Stiles didn’t blame him, the lunches here were AWESOME. 

 

Across from him, a little girl, maybe about ten, was glaring down at her paper, still blank. “What’s wrong?” Stiles signed. She blinked up at him, scowled, and glared back down at the blank page. 

 

“She doesn’t sign,” Lucas looked up from his watercolored hot dog to explain. “She’s new.”

 

“New to camp?” Stiles asked, but he already knew what Lucas meant. 

 

“I can still hear I don’t belong here,” she finally said, looking up at Stiles with this look that reminded him of the time Derek looked at him after he explained that the fire department had to come because he forgot to take the foil off the microwave dinner. She was looking at him like he was an idiot. 

 

“What’s your name?” Stiles asked out loud. They weren’t really supposed to talk, it didn’t help kids learn to sign, which was an important part of camp, but Stiles figured he could make an exception. The girl seemed surprised that Stiles spoke. He knew his voice probably sounded strange, since he refused Speech Therapy, but she understood. 

 

“Emily.”

 

“Alright Emily, come with me for a bit?” She nodded and followed Stiles to the end of the picnic table, where they could be alone but still watch over the kids painting. “Lucky for you, I can read lips. You want to tell me why you’re so upset?” She shook her head. “You sure?”

 

“I don’t want to be here,” she said, pouting. “I want to be at normal camp.”

 

“This is just like normal camp, trust me, I’ve been there,” Stiles said. “What’s wrong with this camp?”

 

“I’m not deaf,” she said. “Not yet.”

 

“Ah, now I get it,” Stiles said. “It’s scary, huh? Losing your hearing?” She nodded. “I know, I was the same way when I was little.” She looked up at him. “It started when I was eleven, I’d miss sentences and stuff, and the music on my computer wouldn’t ever be loud enough, and I’d never hear what teachers were saying unless I was sitting in the front.”

 

“But they didn’t fix you,” Emily said. “You’re deaf now.” Stiles nodded. 

 

“There was no fixing it,” Stiles explained, “I hit my head.” 

 

“Oh,” Emily said, frowning. “I was sick when I was a baby, and the medicine they gave me was bad for hearing.” she sighed, and Stiles squeezed her shoulder. “Doctor Macintosh says I have 40% in my left ear.”

 

“But none in your right?” She shook her head. “So why don’t you sign, Em? It sounds like you’re stuck with this...”

 

“I do a little, but I don’t want to,” Smily crossed her arms, probably making a point not to sign. “People at school make fun of me when I sign.”

 

“That’s because they don’t understand,” Stiles said. He experienced the same thing. Jackson Whittemore used to tie his hands together all the time when they were in grade school. Then one day, after his hearing had completely gone, Scott apparently beat the shit out of him in PE and Jackson came over to his house and apologized for everything and never picked on Stiles again. 

 

“No one wants to be friends with me cause I’m the weird girl who can’t hear,” Emily’s lip began to tremble. Stiles hugged her.

 

“Emily, there’s like 100 kids here that are just like you, a lot of whom know what you’re going through,” she looked up at him. “I promise, you’re life is going to be just fine, it’s just going to take getting used to. And you’ll still get to hang out with people who hear. My best friend Scott and my boyfriend Derek can both hear and we get along fine.” Emily smiled up at Stiles and h relaxed. “Think you’ll try a little harder?” she nodded. “Alright, go ahead, get out of here.” She scurried back to her seat and Stiles watches and she looked at her paper for a bit longer and then tapped Lucas’ hand, signing perfectly to ask for the red paint.

 

Stiles could have cried, he was so proud. 

\----_____----_______--------

 

Stiles was already signing when he got through the door, halfway through his story. The sheriff had to actually grab his son’s hands and make him start over, in which Stiles excitedly told his dad about how he helped a little girl at camp and she hugged him because she made two new friends today and it was all thanks to Stiles. 

 

“I feel like a super hero Dad!” Stiles signed happily, throwing his hands out and almost hitting a lamp. 

 

“I’m proud of you Son,” his dad replied. Stiles noticed his father was in uniform. 

 

“Night shift?” The sheriff nodded.

 

“I’ll be back in the morning,” he responded. “There was a delivery for you today, it’s in your room.”

 

“Delivery?” Stiles asked. He hadn’t ordered anything. 

 

“A package,” his father nodded. “From Berkeley,” Stiles got an excited look on his face. Maybe Derek sent him something? “I’ll be back tomorrow, behave...” But Stiles was already running up the stairs.

 

When he got to his room, he froze in the doorway. He had expected a letter, a box maybe... Definitely not a full grown human that looked suspiciously like his boyfriend just lounging all casually on his bed. Derek looked up from the book he had taken off Stiles’ shelf and smiled at him, waving awkwardly. 

 

“You have blue and green handprints on your face,” Derek signed. He was getting faster, Stiles noticed. 

 

“You’re in my room,” Stiles signed back. Derek nodded and they both sat there for a minute before Stiles lunged himself at Derek, kissing him soundly. He octopused himself to Derek, wrapping his limbs around him and holding tight, scared he was hallucinating or that this was all a dream. “You’re here?” Stiles signed quickly.

 

“I’m here,” he replied, before kissing Stiles again. 

___-----_-_____--------__----_

 

They caught up on a lot of things: work, home, sex (his dad was out of the house after all) before finally leaving the house just as it was getting dark. 

 

“Where are we going?” Derek signed as they bypassed the Jeep and walked down the block, hand in hand. 

 

“Scott?” Derek asked, thinking of Stiles’ best friend. Stiles shook his head though and just tugged Derek along. It was another half a mile before Stiles brought Derek through the woods and into a clearing. A small cemetery was fenced off and Derek has a sudden sinking feeling in his gut. He never once asked Stiles about his mother, he just knew she had died. Derek figured Stiles wouldn’t want to talk about it, because Derek didn’t like talking about his parents’ death at all. 

 

Stiles climbed over the fence and Derek followed, taking his hand again. There were fresh flowers over the marble headstone they approached, and with the tentative way Stiles was approaching it, Derek had a feeling he hadn’t been here in a while, and the flowers were from his father. 

 

“This is my mom,” Stiles signed slowly. Sometimes, when he was thinking about it, Stiles signed slow so that Derek could catch on easier. But this time, Derek knew it was so that Stiles could think his words through and get it right. He sat down on the grass near her grave and Derek sat next to him, pressing his hand to the small of Stiles’ back so he knew Derek was there and listening. “She died when I was thirteen...”

 

_“Mom turn it up please!” Stiles asked, reaching across the console and turning the volume up for the radio. “I need to know what caller I have to be to get the Green Day tickets.”_

 

_“You don’t even like Green Day, baby,” Mrs. Stilinski said as she turned up the dial for him. Stiles scoffed and sang along with the jingle for In-n-Out as he waited for the radio. He twirled his Lacrosse stick in his hands and whistled and tapped his foot. His mother looked at him sideways and just rolled her eyes fondly._

 

_“Think Dad will make it to next week’s lacrosse game?” Stiles asked. “We’re playing against 8th graders its gonna be a tough game.”_

 

_“I’m sure he’s going to try,” his mother replied, pulling up to a red light. “He just got that new job, he’s very busy...”_

 

_“It’s okay,” Stiles smiled at his mom. The light turned green. “Oh yes! The secret code!” Stiles cranked the volume up to 100%._

 

_“Stiles you can’t just - “ There was a sudden sound of screeching tires, and a loud bang and it was a minute before Stiles realized the car was toppling through the air. He screamed out in fear and the toppling of the car made him hit his head on the passenger door and then everything went dark._

 

“I woke up three days later with a deaf ear and a dead mom,” Stiles said, he was crying. He wasn’t shaking or sobbing, but tears rolled down his face. Derek reached out and wiped his cheek with his thumb. Stiles sniffed. “I’m not telling you this so you pity me...”

 

“I don’t,” Derek signed quickly. Stiles looked up at him and smiled softly.

 

“I just thought you deserved to know.” Derek reached out and hugged Stiles, kissing the top of his head. Stiles nuzzled his face in Derek’s neck, and he could feel the dampness of his cheeks. When he pulled away, Derek signed an ‘I love you’ to him and he smiled. 

 

“I love you too,” he signed back. “Mom would have liked you.” That made Derek smile. “You both like Frank Sinatra.” Derek laughed lightly and Stiles beamed when he saw him light up and even chuckled silently, leaning in and kissing Derek sweetly. “How long are you here?”

 

“A week,” Derek signed back. 

 

“Been practicing with Erica I see,” Stiles pointed out, Derek nodded. “Do I get to keep you all week?”

 

“I’m yours,” Derek said, making Stiles beam and kiss him again. 

 

“Good, then come with me. Dinner and Marvel Movies were my plans tonight, you mind joining me?” 

 

“I can think of nothing I’d rather do.” They got up and brushed off their pants before Stiles moved to walk out of the cemetery. Derek paused and put a hand on the tomb stone, looking up at the dark sky. He hoped Stiles’ mother was up there with his own parents, knowing his mom cooing down at their boys and making plans for them. H imagined Stiles’ mom, if she were alive, pulling him aside and telling him to watch out for her boy, and Derek made a silent promise that he would, that he’d never hurt Stiles. 

 

He was pulled out of his thoughts when arms wrapped around his waist and lips were pressed to his neck. “I’m coming,” Derek told Stiles, laughing as Stiles tugged him away., leaving the quiet graves behind them. 


	8. August: An Offer

August: An Offer

Derek woke up to an insane about of vibrating, realizing his phone was not actually reading, but was receiving very frantic texts from a very frantic Stiles at 7 am. 

 

Derek should have really known better than to date a morning person. 

 

_Stiles: Oh my god I’m in the middle of an existential crisis and you’re ASLEEP! Wake up Derek!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

 

_Derek: Oh my god I’m awake and it’s seven and I kinda hate you just saying....what is wrong?_

 

_Stiles: I move back to school tomorrow_

 

_Derek: From my point of view, not a bad thing_

 

_Stiles: They double-booked my room and then I got the shaft so they said they’ll call me when a room is available in the dorms but oh my god Derek I’m going to be homeless come monday!_

 

_Derek: Stiles, you need to calm down, I’m sure you will have a room by Monday, they just have to figure things out until then_

 

_Stiles: But what if they dooooooooon’t_

 

_Stiles: What if I have to live in the Starbucks on campus like that crazy smelly Sam guy?_

 

_Stiles: OMG WHAT IF I BECOME SMELLY STILES AND WE BECOME THE SMELLY BROTHERS!_

 

_Derek: STILES STOP!_

 

There was a pause in the texts, which either meant Stiles actually did stop, or Stiles hyperventalated and passed out. Either way, Derek wasable to send his poor frantic boyfriends a text. 

 

_Derek: Why not just crash at my place until the school calls you?_

 

Derek read that over and over after he sent it. Was it too much? They’d only been together six months, three of those were spent in different cities (not counting the week in Beacon Hills). Maybe Stiles would be happier in a hotel while he waited....

 

_Stiles: Dude. Why did I not think of that? That’s BRILLIANT!_

 

_Derek: It’s because I’m older and wiser_

 

_Stiles: Haha sure babe. You sure you wont mind?_

 

Derek sat there for a minute, worried. Would he mind? Sure he missed Stiles this summer, he was excited to have him back in town, but was their relationship ready to withstand the same apartment? It would just be them two, his roommate Boyd moved out in June to find a place with his girlfriend (Erica of all people, Derek really lived in a bubble). He looked around the apartment, and feeling confident, sent his answer. 

 

_Derek: Of course I wouldn’t mind, when are you coming?_

\--____---_--_-___------_

 

They put all of Stiles’ dorm things in Boyd’s old room. Stiles kept signing things about how he was grateful and didn’t want to be a bother and how he was sure Housing would give him a call in the next week or two. Derek kept insisting that he didn’t mind, he really didn’t. It wasn’t like Stiles hadn’t spent most of his free time here anyway when they were dating last semester. 

 

Once his stuff was in the apartment (Stiles you live in a 10x10 space how do you have all this crap?) Stiles needed to go to the campus and meet with his teachers for the semester.

 

“I’ll be back in twenty,” Stiles signed, kissing Derek’s cheek as he ran out of the apartment, grabbing the second key that was once his roommate’s on the way out. Derek sat on the kitchen counter, blinking.

 

Well that was oddly domestic.

 

Derek kind of liked oddly domestic.

\---____---__-_----__

 

Stiles left the faucet on ALL THE TIME.

 

Derek avoids TAKING THE TRASH OUT like it contains the plague.

 

Stiles left socks EVERYWHERE.

 

Derek’s snoring is so bad it even WAKES STILES UP.

 

But besides all that (and more) Stiles crashing with Derek had been rather successful. Derek liked falling asleep with Stiles in his arms and even if usually he had to wake up early for work, Stiles was still there and kept the bed warm. He had someone to share meals with and was suddenly content with the idea of coming home after work. 

 

But they knew this wasn’t a permanent deal. About two weeks after the start of the semester, Stiles got an email from the housing office, saying they found him a dorm room and he was welcome to move in immediately. 

 

“Oh,” Derek said when Stiles told him. Just oh. 

 

“Yeah,” Stiles shrugged. “I don’t really want to right now...long day and all, maybe tomorrow?” Stiles signed. Derek nodded. 

 

“Yeah...makes sense,” he signed. “Want to watch a movie?”

 

They fell asleep watching “The Avengers” and the next morning, Derek woke up with a crick in his neck and a nervous pang in his chest. 

 

He didn’t want Stiles to go, to live somewhere else even if that somewhere else was only a couple blocks away. 

 

He lied on his back, Stiles dozing while draped over him. Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair and smiled softly at him as he woke up. He looked at Derek, a dopey smile on his face as he rested his chin on Derek’s chest. “Hi,” Derek said, smiling. Stiles waved sleepily. 

 

“Moving day,” Stiles signed, spelling out of laziness. 

 

“Don’t go,” Derek replied. Stiles huffed but smirked. 

 

“Why?” He asked. “Wanna hold me captaive here?” he teased. “Hide me away from the evil senior year of college?”

 

“No, I think you’d still have to go to class,” Derek smirked. “But you could just...not move into your Dorm...”

 

“That would be a real pain,” Stiles signed. “Then all my stuff would be here.”

 

“Why not just leave your stuff here?” Derek asked. Stiles looked at him like he was an idiot.

 

“Because then any time I needed something I’d have to swing by here, and I love you but that’s a lot of work...” Derek face palmed and reached for his coffee table. They were clearly having communication issues this morning. He scribbled on the note pad and held it up for Stiles to read.

 

_Move in with me you idiot._

 

Stiles blinked at the note, cocking his head to the side. He studied it intently, like it was the hardest equation he ever encountered in his life, and Derek was just sitting there, internally freaking out as he held the note out. He was confident the reason it was taking so long was because Stiles was trying to figure out how to gently turn him down. He had obviously pushed him too far...

 

“Derek!” Derek snapped out of his self-deprecating thought cycle and looked up at Stiles in shock. He had obviously been signing and Derek wasn’t paying attention. Derek looked at him like a deer in the headlights and Stiles sighed audibly before snatching the note pad away and writing something, showing it to Derek to read. 

 

_Okay <3_

 

Derek read it a couple of times before looking up at his beaming boyfriend. He held up a finger and added to the note as a second though and Derek froze. 

 

_Okay <3_

_But you have to take out the trash or I’m outta here mister_

 

Derek crossed his heart in a promise before leaping across the couch and kissing Stiles soundly. 


	9. September: An Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this took a while, I'm glad you're sticking with me and this fic. Finals are OVER and summer vacation has BEGUN and that means fics fics fics and I'm so excited! If anyone has any fic requests they want from me, I'd be happy to do so, jus send me an ask on my [TUMBLR](http://ashabadash.tumblr.com/) xoxo

September: An Argument

Stiles sat on the big cushy chair in the living room, watching Derek silently. The first month and a half of them being together under the same roof had gone pretty smoothly. Stiles felt they had fallen into a routine, a really nice routine that included meals together and shower times and waking up in the same bed after making love all night. 

 

But as of two weeks ago, Stiles noticed that Derek was acting...weird. 

 

Now Derek Hale was plenty weird, in Stiles’ opinion, which is one of the reasons why he loved him so much. Derek spent an entire year of his childhood with rubber ear caps on after watching Lord of the Rings, because he wanted to be an elf. Derek had a fit if the toilet paper rolled in the wrong direction. Derek blamed having a bad day on the fact he didn’t put his left shoe and sock on before his right. Derek liked six Sweet and Low packets in his coffee every morning. Derek was weird. 

 

But this weird wasn’t the endearing kind that made Stiles fall more and more in love with Derek. This was Derek coming home late three times this week, drunk and sloppy and crashing on the couch. This was Derek missing work twice without even bothering to call in sick. This was Derek who spent all day Saturday curled up in bed, not moving even to eat or pee. This was Derek who hadn’t signed a single word to Stiles in seven days. 

 

Stiles felt shut out. He felt alone. He felt the silence for the first time since he lost his hearing in the first place and it put this panic in his chest. Stiles woke up one morning, freaking out, and Derek wasn’t even in bed. 

 

Had he done something wrong? Was this Derek’s way of saying he didn’t love him anymore? Did he want him to leave but just couldn’t find the words?

 

The thought of losing Derek hurt, it ached in his chest and misery filled his whole body. He curled up in a ball and clutched his pillow to his chest, crying his eyes out alone in their room. 

\---____-____------____------___---_-__

 

When Derek came home that night, he was drunk again, so much so that it took a good five minutes to get his key in the door. He just wanted to shower and fall into bed, his head was already killing him. 

 

But when the door finally swung open, Stiles was standing in the middle of the living room, eyes narrow, arms crossed. Stiles was pissed and Derek just blinked at him, not knowing what to do. With a hand that was shaking with the fury that pent through him, Stiles held out an envelope and Derek took it. 

 

“I’m too angry to sign and you’re too drunk to translate,” Stiles said out loud. “Just read it.” He turned back on his heals and marched out of the room. Derek was about to protest when Stiles shouted and angry “NOW!” and Derek fumbled to open the letter. The first thing Derek noticed, was that it was handwritten, and in several places on the page, there were wet smudges and Derek realized Stiles had been crying. 

 

_I don’t know what I did..._ (Oh god...Derek thought, sitting down on the couch, the letter gripped tight in his fingers.) _I honestly can’t think of anything, you and I were doing so well. Maybe I was too clingy, or we were too dependent. Maybe you want someone...whole?_ (Derek grabbed at his chest. That wasn’t it, it wasn’t Stiles at all, he had it all wrong.) _Whatever it is though, Derek, I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry you had to ignore me for a week to get your message across but I hear it, loud and clear. You don’t love me anymore._ (“No,” Derek shook his head. That wasn’t what was wrong, that wasn’t it! He was going to lose him...) _I’m leaving now, getting out of your hair. Scott said he’d come and grab my things for me in a while, probably while you’re at work._

_I wish you would have broken up with me properly, I wish we could have talked about this. If we had, though, I would have begged. I would have begged you to take me back because I love you, I still love you, more than anything in the world. Maybe it’s better this way, I could never handle the heartbreak of you saying  you didn’t actually want me anymore._

_Goodbye Derek._

 

There was a sound of the elevator outside the apartment and the front door was wide open, but Derek was too drunk to take the stairs and he knew if he reached the bottom floor, Stiles would already be long gone. He let the note fall to the floor and he covered his face in his hands. 

 

Derek sat like that for an hour, until his tear ducts ran dry. He had been an idiot, a right asshole, and he deserved Stiles walking out on him. But Stiles didn’t deserve to think that all of what had happened was because he didn’t love Stiles, because it wasn’t that at all. 

 

He stood up quickly, determined to go find him before it was too late, explain himself. But the room spun and he fell back to the couch, his head aching. “Shit,” he swore. The alcohol was starting to wear off and the hangover was setting in. Derek’s head was spinning. He picked up his phone and dialed his ex-roommate.

 

“Derek, it’s 2 am,” Boyd growled as he answered the phone. “You better be dying or...”

 

“Stiles left me, I have to find him, I’m too drunk to stand on my own, I need your help,” he said it all in a whirlwind of a breath and there was silence over the line for a few minutes as Derek held his breath. “Please?” 

 

“I’ll be over in five minutes, start yourself some coffee to sober you up, can you do that?” Derek nodded, even though Boyd couldn’t see. They hung up the phone and before he could get to the kitchen and make his coffee, Derek dropped to his knees again, gripping the wall for support, and cried. 

\---______-----______---__-____-----

 

“You can’t apologize if you don’t know where he is,” Boyd said, sitting on the coffee table across from Derek. He had foundDerek on the floor, a wreck, and pulled him into the bathroom, throwing him in the tub and turning on the cold water to sober him up. When he was re-dressed and sitting on the couch, Boyd handed him a cup of coffee and worked out of Derek what happened. 

 

“You never told him?” Boyd asked, shocked. “Dude you told me after a week of knowing each other!”

 

“It never came up!” Derek shouted. 

 

“He took you to his mother’s grave,” Boyd pointed out. “You two moved in together, he’s met your sister...”

 

“He hasn’t met Laura...” Derek corrected. Boyd threw his hands in the air. “There was never a good time to bring it up, and I didn’t know how to say “Oh by the way, my parents were murdered by my crazy ex in a fire and oh by the way pass the salt.” 

 

“How about two weeks ago when the anniversary came up and you turned into Zombie man?” Derek looked down. 

 

“I know I fucked up, but...” Derek felt broken. “I need to find him Boyd, I need to explain...” 

 

“Well sober up,” Boyd pointed to the coffee. “Erica found him sleeping on a couch in the University Union, she said she’d keep him there until we got there.” 

 

“Boyd I could kiss you,” Derek said, draining the rest of his coffee. 

 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Boyd made a face.

 

At the University Union, where most people were staying up late and using the computer labs to study, Stiles Stilinski was curled up and crying against Erica’s shoulder. She rubbed his arm, trying to sooth him as he silently sobbed. After some time , he sat up and wiped his eyes. “Who needs him, right? If he’s just gonna do a 180 on me like that, I don’t want to be a part of it...” he signed, but the expression in his face said otherwise. 

 

“Baby...” Erica sighed. Just then, she saw Boyd and Derek looking around at the end of the hall and she waved them down. She looked at Stiles sternly. “You will listen to him before you run off again, got me?” Stiles looked confused until Boyd and Derek sat down across from them at the study table. Immediately, Stiles stood up and Erica grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Stiles sighed audibly. 

 

“Five minutes,” Stiles signed, crossing his arms and looking at Derek. He noticed Derek red eyes and pale skin and damp hair. Stiles was sure he looked just as bad. 

 

Derek just blinked. “I...I don’t know where to start...”

 

“Two weeks ago would be good,” Stiles signed back, his actions sharp and without flourish. Derek watched him with a sad face, Stiles looked at his watch. 

 

“My parents died in a fire,” Derek signed. Stiles’ eyes went wide. 

 

“ON SATURDAY?!” He shouted. There was a collection of “shhhhh” around the hall and from Erica and Boyd. Derek shook his head furiously. 

 

“No no, when I was sixteen...” and he told Stiles his story, how seven years ago he broke up with this older woman he was seeing and she went crazy and burned the house down, thinking he was inside. He and his sister and his uncle were the only survivors. The seven year anniversary of their death was two weeks ago and Derek just got into a funk, unable to get out of it.

 

“I’m sorry,” Derek signed, over and over and over he signed the same words. “I’m so sorry Stiles. I should have told you sooner...”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles said out loud, making Derek pause. He followed that with a sign. “You should have.”

 

“It wasn’t my intention to make you think I didn’t love you,” Derek said. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth.” 

 

“What was your intention, then?” Stiles signed, his face sad. “To drink yourself into oblivion? To sleep the rest of your life away? To get fired? Because all of those were pretty much your options by this point.” Derek paused, looking at his hands. He must have waited too long because Stiles banged on the table to bring back his attention. “Do you do this every year? I don’t know if I could handle that Derek...” 

 

“No,” Derek insisted. “This...” he paused, took a breath. “Kate was released last week from jail, she’s in a mental hospital, but I...I just snapped, and I couldn’t bring myself back.”

 

“If you had told me, I could have helped.” Stiles insisted. 

 

“I didn’t know how,” Derek started, but he shook his head. “I was scared.” 

 

“Scared?” Stiles’ face softened. 

 

“That you wouldn’t love me anymore, because of my past, because I’m broken...” Stiles reached out and grabbed his hands. 

 

“Derek I would never...” Stiles kissed his hands. “I love you,” he signed. “More than anything. I would have been there for you, I would have supported you these past two weeks, but you shut me out and I didn’t know what to do. I thought I lost you.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Derek frowned. 

 

“Me too,” Stiles replied. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.” 

 

“And I love you both, can we all go back to bed now?” Erica finally interrupted. Boyd was leaning back in the chair, snoring softly until Erica kicked him and he jolted. 

 

“Why did you wake me up I’m the only one who has no clue what they’re talking about!” Boyd said grumpily.

 

“We’ve made up, we’re going home now,” Derek said. He took Stiles’ hand and pulled him up. “Bye guys!”

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

Back at their apartment, when they walked in the door, Derek was heading straight for the bedroom when Stiles stopped, tugging his arm. Derek turned around and Stiles leaned up and kissed him gently, cupping his face in his hands as he did so. Before Derek could respond, Stiles sat back. 

 

“Don’t scare me like this again...okay?” he signed, his face an expression of worry. “If something’s wrong, tell me, please. I’m here for you, and you’re here for me.”

 

“Got it,” Derek responded. “No matter what it is that is wrong?”

 

“Even the littlest thing,” Stiles answered. Derek nodded, his face serious. “Oh my god what?”

 

“Well...” he said, shifting feet. “You drool in your sleep.” Stiles threw his hands in the air, knocking Derek upside the head. “You do! It’s a problem!”

 

“I hate you I’m going to bed!” Stiles stormed off. Derek laughed and chased after him, lifting Stiles off the ground and carrying him the rest of the way to the room, both boys laughing. 


	10. October: An Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, I have been distracted by the pains of season 3. So here is some fluff

October: An Introduction

Derek had his hands shoved in his pockets, pacing back and forth across the TA office he’d been working out of that semester. This isn’t a big deal, it’s a normal sized deal, really. It wasn’t like he was throwing Stiles to the wolves.

 

Okay, Introducing Stiles to Uncle Peter could be like throwing him to the wolves, but Laura was a good buffer, and Derek just wouldn’t translate the creepy stuff. 

 

Translate...right. Maybe Derek should call his family and tell them Stiles was deaf.

 

“You didn’t tell them I was Deaf?” Stiles signed, so flabbergasted that he knocked over Derek’s lamp. “I’m revoking your diploma, you’re an idiot.”

 

“It slipped my mind,” Derek signed back, frustrated. Fighting, or even bickering, with Stiles was difficult, because he wanted to shout, but doing so would just be useless, and Derek groaned in annoyance. 

 

“Slipped your mind?” Stiles said outloud. “DEREK!” Great, now Derek was making Stiles nervous, and that wasn’t what they wanted, because a panicked Stiles was NEVER a good thing. 

 

“I told Laura that you’re brilliant,” Derek explained. “That you’re the top of your department in computer sciences. I told her you’re a horrible cook unless it’s breakfast or spaghetti, and I told her that I love you,” Derek kissed his head. “Everything else seemed irrelevant.” 

 

“I love you, you idiot,” Stiles signed, shaking his head. “Now call your sister and tell her, PLEASE?” 

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

Stiles changed his clothes 10 times. He needed something dark, he was worried he’d sweat through the whole dinner and then pass out, and wouldn’t that be a great first impression?

 

Finally, Stiles picked black slacks and a red button up shirt and he was looking at himself in the mirror, willing himself to look less pale, when Derek came in the room, leaning against the door frame in his blue shirt and grey sport coat and light wash jeans. 

 

“You look more comfortable than me,” Stiles signed, sighing loudly. Derek shrugged and walked into the room, Standing behind Stiles and looking at themselves in the full length mirror. 

 

“You look beautiful,” Derek signed, making Stiles blush. Well, he helped with the paleness problem. Derek ducked his head, kissing Stiles’ cheek. 

 

“What if they don’t like me?” Stiles asked for maybe the 100th time since Derek announced his family would be in town and asked to meet up for dinner. 

 

“They’re going to love you,” Derek responded.

 

“How do you know?” Stiles signed. Derek just shook his head and kissed Stiles quickly, smiling against his lips. The doorbell rang, making the lights in the apartment flashed on and off. Stiles’ eyes went wide. 

 

“Let’s face the music,” Derek signed. 

 

“I don’t listen to music,” Stiles mumbled. Derek lightly smacked him upside the head, making him laugh. 

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

“Oh my god,” Laura threw her head back, laughing, dark curls rolling down her back. “Poor Stiles, he hasn’t learned his lesson yet that Derek may LOOK like a handyman, but the best you can do about fixing a sink is yell at it!” Stiles laughed and Derek rolled his eyes. So far dinner had gone surprisingly well. Stiles and Laura hit it off almost immediately and Derek only had to kick his uncle under the table twice for being a major creep. They had gone out to this fancy Italian place Derek and Stiles only saved for special occasions (Derek’s birthday, Stiles passing his Chemistry final, Their “sex-versary” according to Stiles...) and they were into dessert without a hitch.

 

And then Peter opens his fucking mouth. 

 

Derek knew it wasn’t directed at Stiles, if it was, Peter would have waited until Stiles was done reading Laura’s lips as she told him about some embarrassing moment in his life. Instead however, Peter looked up at the ceiling, seemingly watching the chandelier or something, and murmured. “I wonder how much longer you two will last?” Derek would have kicked him, but doing so would cause attention and it seemed as though Stiles missed Peter’s comment. Derek shot him a glare from the opposite end of the table and Peter merely smirked. 

 

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You’re probably going to get fed up with this after a while.” He gestered to Stiles and Laura, where Stiles would sign a little, and then Derek would translate for him. “You always were attracted to those who you felt sorry for. Tell me, how much longer will this pity party last?” 

 

“If you’re smart Peter, you’re going to stand up and walk out of this restaurant right now before I leap across this table and strangle you.” Laura looked up at Derek, arched an eyebrow and then seemed to have understood because she went back to talking to Stiles quietly, smiling as if she too couldn’t hear the conversation between her brother and her uncle. 

 

“It was a simple question,” Peter said. “Do you love him or is this just a “make Derek feel better” show?” He smirked and Derek practically growled. 

 

“I love him,” Derek said. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.” Peter just smirked, and when the check came, he gladly handed over his credit card. 

 

After that, the rest of the evening was back to normal. Derek tried not to scowl every time he looked over at Peter. Stiles’ hand found his knee and he squeezed gently. Somehow Stiles just knew something had Derek on edge. He kissed his cheek and smiled as him and Derek relaxed slightly. 

 

As they walked home (the restaurant was only a few block s from Derek’s), Derek’s mind was racing. How _dare_ Peter ask him that at dinner? Had he done anything to make his family think he was only dating Stiles out of pity? Did...oh god, did _Stiles_ think he was dating him out of pity? 

 

“Hello! Earth to Derek!” Derek was snapped out of his horrible train of though by Laura shaking him slightly. He hadn’t even realized they were at his apartment building. 

 

“Bye baby brother,” she said, hugging him close. “It’s good to see you so happy,” She kissed his cheek. “I haven’t seen you like this since...” She paused, but hugged tighter and Derek appreciated the sentiment. After Laura hugged Stiles till he turned blue, she and Peter got in the car and waved once more before driving out and heading back to Derek’s hometown. 

 

“She whispered at you,” Stiles signed as they headed upstairs into the apartment. Stiles had mastered the art of walking up the stairs backwards while signing, and had only gotten two concussions in the last year. “What did she whisper? Was it about me?” Derek rolled his eyes. “Oh god it was, she hates me, doesn’t she?” Stiles stumbled on the last step and Derek caught him, bringing him close as they stood outside the apartment door. 

 

“You reading?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded. “She says you make me happy,” he smiled. “Happiest I’ve ever been.” Stiles beamed and wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders. 

 

“You make me happy too,” he said, trying to whisper. Derek leaned in and kissed him, pressing him up against the door, laughing until he finally got the key in the lock and nearly tackled Stiles inside. 

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

Derek woke up on the floor of the living room the next morning, wrapped in a bed sheet.  He sat up to find Stile was already awake and dressed, curled on the big chair with a mug in hand. 

 

“Morning,” he signed lazily. 

 

“Afternoon,” Stiles corrected, putting the mug down. “I just got back from class.” 

 

“I slept all day?!?!” Stiles chuckled and nodded. 

 

“I wore you out,” he teased. “Good thing you didn’t have work today. Here,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “This was on the door. I’m making lunch.” He smiled at Derek, kissing his head and heading to the kitchen to make grilled cheese. Derek leaned agains the couch and opened the letter, simply marked “Derek” in a curvy handwriting. Inside was a post-it and a key.

 

_I just had to be sure -Peter_

 

Derek examined the key, knew exactly what it was for, but not why it was given to him.

 

“Peter you’re so weird,” Derek muttered before standing up and placing the key his jacket pocket over the back of the couch and wrapped the sheet around him, heading to the kitchen to find Stiles. 


	11. November: An Opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. I work every day in the summer and I just got back from COMIC CON! WOO!   
> Anyway, there's two chapters left of this fic, I hope you're enjoying it, and sticking with me. I hope I get another chapter up before moving back to school at the end of the month. xoxo

November: An Opportunity

“What are you singing?” Stiles asked aloud, his feet up on the kitchen table, watching Derek as he was doing dishes, his body swaying with music obviously playing in Derek’s head. He saw Derek’s lips move and wondered to himself if he was a good singer or a bad one. Stiles always imagined Derek had a gruff voice, something low and sexy, but sometimes he pretended that Derek had a high pitched voice and he’d burst out laughing and Derek would just stare at him like he was crazy. 

 

“I’m not singing,” Derek signed back, he grinned though and Stiles knew he was lying. Stiles just shook his head back at him and looked back down at his book. Midterms just ended, and he had a little reprieve before studying for finals came around. But Stiles didn’t get straight A’s for nothing and he figured a little extra studying didn’t hurt. 

 

He had lost track of where Derek was in the house until he felt hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently. Stiles smiled softly as Derek pressed a kiss on his head. Stiles looked up at him, smiling wider as Derek bent down more to kiss him upside-down, making him giggle. 

 

Derek grinned into the kiss, eyes closed as he reached for Stiles’ text book and shut it, putting it on the table and taking Stiles’ hand, leading him up out of the chair and toward their bedroom. 

 

“I should study,” Stiles signed, hands shaking only slightly as Derek unbuttoned his shirt.

 

“It’s Friday, you have the whole weekend,” Derek signed back, dropping to his knees to kiss Stiles’ stomach and abdomen. Stiles leaned back on the door. 

 

“Worst teacher ever,” he signed, laughing to show he was teasing. Derek shook his head and leaned up to capture his lips in a deep kiss, nearly tackling him onto the bed. 

 

They made love, twice, Stiles collapsing on Derek’s chest at the end of the second time and babbling quietly, breathless as words that made no sense to Derek fell from his lips. Coming down from orgasm was one of Derek’s favorite parts as he wrapped arms and legs around Stiles and just held him, letting his happiness roll over him in waves. Stiles stopped talking, pressing kisses to his chest lazily.

 

“I love you,” Derek signed. Stiles made a Y with his thumb and pinky and motioned between the two of them. 

 

“I love you too,” Stiles leaned up and kissed him sweetly. He settled so his legs were comfortably tangled with Derek’s and his head was settled on his shoulder. “Goodnight baby,” Stiles finger-spelled. Derek responded by kissing his temple. They fell asleep, content and at bliss.

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

“Derek!” Professor Forrester grinned as he walked into the TA office Derek worked in along with three other TA’s. “How are you today? Finish grading the midterms yet?”

 

“Almost,” Derek lied, most of them were sitting on his coffee table at home. He only brought small stacks to school so it would look like he was nearing done. 

 

“Great! Listen, I need a favor, could you run the English 150 class today? I have to pick my daughter up from school she’s sick...” Derek frowned. The only class Professor Forrester let him run was his freshman 101 classes that had like 500 students in it, and Derek just had to flip through the slides. English 150 was a 25 person British Literature class. He’d have to proctor discussions and actually teach. 

 

_Come on Derek,_ a voice in his head that was suspiciously starting to sound like Stiles. _You got a teaching credential, you cant be scared to teach._ Besides, he sat in on the class last week. How hard could it be?

 

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Derek smiled. His Professor looked relieved. 

 

“Thank you Derek. The lesson plan is on my laptop in the classroom, class starts at 1:30, you’re the best.” Derek just nods and wave as the professor ran out as fast as he came in. 

 

The class, Derek thinks thankfully, runs pretty smoothly. He keeps the group of undergrads on topic and entertained as they discuss the book they read that past week. Derek himself even participates, having taken this class last fall, and the students wite down his insights. There were two men who sat in the back of the room, Derek thought they may have been a bit too old to be students, who were writing fervently in a notebook, and had even asked a couple questions, but were gone before the class ended. Derek didn’t bother to bring it up when he called the teacher to let him know how things went. 

 

Derek walked in the apartment that night carrying a pizza and a case of beer and found the apartment spotless. “Uh oh,” he hummed. Stiles only cleaned when he was stressed out. 

 

“You’re home!” Derek just had enough time to put the food down in the kitchen and Stiles was octopussed to him, kissing his cheek. “And you brought food!” He signed. “I love you.”

 

“Hi,” Derek just laughed at his boyfriend’s erratic behavior. Stiles jumped down from him and grabbed a slice of pepperoni and pineapple pizza and ate it in nearly three bites. “I cleaned,” he signed. 

 

“I can see that,” Derek signed back. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong!” Stiles’ hands moved so fast Derek was afraid to blink. “I mean I’m re-thinking my life as a computer programmer, maybe college all together, but nothing’s wong, Derek, I’m fine.” He dropped his head on the table and groaned out loud. “Can I quit?” Stiles shouted at the wood. Derek just reached over and petted the back of his head, fingernails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. After a moment, Stiles sat up and huffed, looking at Derek sadly. 

 

“What’s wrong,” Derek signed again. 

 

“I got a D on my midterm,” Stiles replied and Derek was actually taken aback. Stiles was a straight A student. He never got a D as long as Derek had known him. He was at Berkeley on a scholarship. “I haven’t gotten a D since Scott and I traded essays freshman year of high school because he new if he failed he’d be held back a year. I don’t now what to do, Derek,” He pressed his face into Derek’s shoulder. Derek comforted him until he could sit back again. 

 

“Can you drop it? Take it next semester?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head.

 

“It’s not offered next semester and I need the class to graduate,” Stiles frowned. Derek sighed. “I’m just going to quit school,” Stiles signed dramatically. 

 

“Stiles,” Derek shook his head. Stiles was going to graduate in May, he was almost there. Derek wouldn’t let him give up. 

 

“You already have a diploma, you don’t need a master’s too, escape with me,” Stiles reached out and squeezed Derek’s hand quickly, pulling himself so he was sitting on Derek’s lap, but still with enough room to sign. “Lets run away from school, we’ll go on an adventure.” Derek sighed again and Stiles pouted. “Please?”

 

“No,” Derek shook his head. Stiles pouted more. “Stop that,” he sat up and nipped his lips. “You’re so close baby,” Derek insisted. “You can do this, I’ll help you study for the final, you’re going to pass, okay? I promise.” Stiles sighed and nodded and pressed his forehead to Derek’s, breathing deeply. The lights in the apartment flickered. Stiles groaned. That was the sign that someone was usin their doorbell. 

 

“Answer it and tell them your boyfriend is having a crisis,” Stiles said, “Then slam the door in his face and then we can have sex.”

 

“Jesus Stiles!” Derek shook his head. His boyfriend had this obsession with seeing if he could get Derek hard when answering the door. The last time it worked, poor Mrs. Coulson from next door was just coming to ask for a cup of sugar and Derek almost cried at her expression. 

 

Derek threw a dishrag at Stiles’ face and then hurried to the front door as the light’s flashed again. He opened it to find the two men from class that day, dressed in the same sweater-vests and slacks they had on earlier, and Professor Forrester, all smiling at him. 

 

“Derek, hope this is a good time,” the teacher said. “This is Mr. James Callahan and Mr. Marcus Bradley, colleages of mine, could we come in?” Derek nodded and welcomed them in. 

 

_Thank god Stiles cleaned,_ Derek thought. “Take a seat I’ll be right back.”

 

“Are we interrupting company?” Mr. Bradley asked. 

 

“No, my boyfriend lives here, let me just tell him you’re all here,” he said, hurrying to the kitchen and finding Stiles moping as he read over his midterm. He looked up at Derek. “My boss and two colleages are here,” Derek signed, making a face, Stiles made a face back and wrote on the back of his test. 

 

_If you get fired can we revisit that running away plan?_

 

Derek rolled his eyes and flicked Stiles’ head, heading back into the living room where the professors were waiting for him on the sofa. 

 

“Sorry bout that, he’s studying for an exam,” Derek said, sitting on the big comfy chair, but only on the edge, facing the teachers. “I’m not sure I know why you’re here though, did I do something wrong in class today...?”

 

“Oh no! Quite the opposite actually,” Professor Forrester said. “According to Bradley and Callahan, you did amazing today,” Derek blushed and bowed his head modestly. 

 

“I could see why you suggested him, John,” Callahan said with a smile. 

 

“Suggested me?” Derek asked. He looked between the three of them. 

 

“Berkeley has an accelerated Master’s program, Derek, did you know that?” Forrester asked, Derek nodded. “For students with teaching credentials, like you. In which you gain your credits needed for your master’s by holding a class for two semesters and then using that last semester for your thesis paper.” Derek knew all this, but the program was pretty much a lottery, and he figured he didn’t have a chance. You still got the degree in two years, but you graduated with pretty much a job in hand and a recommendation form some of the best professors in the country. 

 

“I’m the Dean of the English Department at Yale,” Callahan said. “Professor Bradley would be the teacher supervising you.”

 

“It’s not nearly as exciting as the English 150 you taught today, knowing this program you’d probably be stuck with English 1 or a Shakespeare class...”

 

“Anything but Shakespeare...” Derek said, not fully caught up on the conversation just yet. “Wait...” He looked up at them. “Wait are you offering to put me in the program?” The three men nodded. “You want me to teach a class at _Yale_?” Again, they nodded. Derek was dumbfounded. He didn’t even get into Yale when he applied and now they wanted him teaching a class. 

 

“You have about a week to think about it, we pick students for the program mid December,” Professor Forrester said. He stood up and his colleges followed, shaking Derek’s hand. “I just wanted to be the one to give you the news.”

 

“Thank you so much,” Derek said, still baffled. “I’ll let you know before the deadline,” he said as he walked them out the door. Of course it would be yes though, why wouldn’t it be. It was an amazing opportunity to teach at an Ivy league school for the next semester. He could live in Connecticut, it was just for a semester, for now. What if they offered him a permanent job? Almost everyone who did this program got a job with the school they worked for...

 

“Get fired?” Derek was pulled out of his thoughts, his attention turned toward the soft smile of his boyfriend as he leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen. Derek blinked at him. Stiles. How could he leave Stiles? All the excitement of the opportunity shriveled up and locked itself away as Derek realized that Yale was on the other side of the country, and he’d be there, while Stiles finished his undergrad here in California. 

 

He really would have to think about this. 

 

“No,” Derek signed to him, shrugging. “I taught a class and he wanted to tell me I did a good job,” Stiles raised an eyebrow. 

 

“A phone call would have been fine, but that was nice of him,” he bought a plate to Derek with a piece of pizza on it and smiled up at him. 

 

“Thank you,” Derek signed before taking the plate. Stiles tip-toed and kissed his forehead before curling up on the couch. 

 

“I’m quitting school for the evening, you too, okay?” Stiles rested his head on Derek’s lap. “We’re going to watch shitty TV, okay?” Derek nodded and pet Stiles’ head as he finished the pizza Stiles brought him. They watched some TV show for a while that Derek was sure had originally aired in the 70’s. There weren’t any subtitles for Stiles either, not like it mattered though, since Stiles just passed out in his lap almost immediately. Derek bent down and kissed Stiles’ cheek, sliding out from under him to put the rest of the pizza away and clean up the kitchen. Stiles snored on on the couch and Derek turned off the TV, bending down to lift Stiles up and cary him to their room. 

 

“I love you Derek,” Stiles mumbled in his ear, making Derek smile. He put him on the bed, pulling off his shoes, socks, and pants. Derek changed into sweats and then pulled them both under the covers. Stiles instantly rolled to his normal spot, cuddled close to Derek, face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he mumbled, words heavy with sleep and lack of practice. Derek’s stomach wracked with guilt and worry. 

 

He was up half the night worrying about his decision. 

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

A few days later, Derek was editing essays at the kitchen table when Stiles came in with a sheepish expression. 

 

“What did you break?” Derek signed. Stiles pretended to be shocked. Derek repeated the sign.

 

“My laptop.” Stiles signed, frowning. “Can I use yours?”

 

“No,” Derek signed. Stiles pouted. 

 

“Please, just to print my essay,” he pouted more and Derek gave up, rolling his eyes and waving Stiles away. “Thank you!” Stiles hurried to the other room where Derek’s laptop sat open and plugged in his USB, quickly printing out his essay. He pressed print too early however and ended up printing the first email Derek had open on his desktop. Stiles pulled the papers from the printer and frowned at the top sheet. 

 

_Derek - there are still a few days left until we make the final decisions, and I write to you hoping you reconsider the offer for the accelerated program. Yale would be lucky to have you and to be honest I can think of no one who deserves this opportunity more than you do. - Forrester_

 

Stiles read it over two or three times. Yale? He looked in the kitchen from here he stood. Derek was drinking coffee and editing, like he always did on Friday mornings since he didn’t have work or class. He sank back into the couch and opened the email again. He knew snooping was bad, but he was terribly curious. He opened the email and checked the outgoing message before it.

 

_Professor Forrester - I want to thank you again, for offering me the amazing opportunity as to accept me into the accelerated master’s program at Yale. Unfortunately at this time, I cannot accept the offer do to other obligations here in Berkeley. Thank you again, so much, and I hope you can take me on as your teaching assistant again next spring. - Derek Hale_

 

Stiles then read that over and over again as well, eyes bugged out. Then he frowned and stood, almost dropping Derek’s laptop in the process, and marching into the kitchen, tapping his foot until Derek looked up. 

 

“If you broke mine too I...”

 

“Did you do something stupid?" Stiles asked aloud, enunciating each word to the best of his ability, trying to be clear. Derek just looked confused. “Tell me you didn’t turn down an amazing job...for me...” he bit his lip tightly, eyes wide as Derek just blinked. “I wasn’t snooping, it printed by accident,” he signed, holding out the sheet of printer paper. Derek took it. 

 

He didn’t look upset or angry with Stiles, he just looked...lost? Stiles sat across from him at the table, hands folded in front of him. Derek sighed and looked down at his hands before looking at Stiles. 

 

“What do you want me to say?” Derek signed slowly. 

 

“That you didn’t turn down that program because Yale is on the other side of the country from me,” Stiles replied. Derek didn’t move. “Oh my god,”He smacked his head. 

 

“What?” Derek signed. “I turned it down.” 

 

“An Ivy league school wanted you to teach their students and you said no? Why Derek?”

 

“I didn’t want to go without you,” Derek signed before throwing his hands in the air and storming out of the kitchen. Stiles was hot on his heals though, right until he reached the bedroom door Derek slammed in his face. Stiles groaned at his boyfriend’s apparent tantrum and turned back to the kitchen. He’d do dishes or something until he calmed down enough to deal with Derek. 

 

It took about an hour until Stiles headed back to the bedroom and the door was open. Derek was lying on the bed, reading his book, face set in a frown. Stiles walked in and snatched the book out of Derek’s hands, placing it on the night stand. 

 

“Hey!” Derek shouted. Stiles then moved to straddle Derek’s hips, looking down at him and waiting to get his attention. 

 

“I don’t want to fight about this,” Stiles signed. Derek sighed but nodded, understanding. “I just...” he paused thinking through the words he wanted to use. “I don’t want to be the one that holds you back from accomplishing anything,” Stiles said. Derek blinked up at him. “Yale is amazing, you never know when you’re going to get a chance like that again. You’d only be gone a semester, I could come visit for spring break,” he smiled down at Derek. “I just don’t want to give you any reason to resent me later on down the line.” 

 

“Stiles, I would never,” he signed. Stiles crossed his arms. Derek sighed. “Yes, you were part of the reason I turned it down...” he signed. 

 

“Why? Cause you think our relationship can’t handle a semester apart?” Stiles frowned as he signed. “That I won’t be okay on my own for a while while we’re apart cause I’ve done it for years...” Derek held up his hands and Stiles stopped.

 

“I don’t think I could do it,” Derek explained. “Be apart from you for that long. If it was anything like this summer, I’d go insane,” Stiles looked down at him, sighed, and leaned forward to kiss him gently. 

 

“But _Yale_ ,” Stiles said , lips brushing Derek’s as he spoke. 

 

“There will be other opportunities,” Derek shrugged. 

 

“But _YALE_ ,” Stiles  shook him and Derek sighed. “Derek you deserve this,” Derek frowned. “You do, besides I need this last semester to plan for graduation, you’ll just be in the way,” he waved a hand, laughing. 

 

“You tried to quit college three times yesterday,” Derek signed. “And twice the day before.” 

 

“I promise not to quit school if you promise not to let this chance slip away,” Stiles signed and then crossed his arms. 

 

“You really want me to go to the other side of the country?” Derek signed. Stiles pouted some. 

 

“Oh god no,” Stiles signed quickly. “I don’t want you to leave the state, I barely want you to leave this apartment without me,” he kissed him quick before sitting up to sign more. “I just know you deserve this and if you don’t give it a chance, you’re going to wonder what would have happened for the rest of your life.” There was some intense staring after that, eyes narrow from Stiles’ end and he stared Derek down. 

 

“If I call them tomorrow, will you let me kiss you longer than a second?” Derek signed. 

 

“Are you going to see if you can still take them up on it,” Derek nodded. “Then I’ll let you kiss me all night if you want to,” He laughed out loud as Derek surged up from where he was lying and kissed Stiles, arms wrapping around him and lying back on the bed. 

\---___---_-_----__---__-____-----

 

Derek drummed his fingers on his desk for an hour. He wondered if he was able to bruise the tips of his fingers, or if that would effect his signing with Stiles. It was the day after the deadline for the program, he knew it was stupid to ask Professor Forrester if there was any chance he could be reconsidered, someone else probably jumped at the chance. 

 

The door to the office opened, but it was just Josh, the other TA that he shared the room with. “Derek,” he said. “Man you look like hell. Too much coffee man,” Derek laughed anxiously. He only had five cups, what did Josh know. 

 

Derek was tired of sitting and waiting. He stood up and went to move toward the door. He’d go to Forrester’s office and talk to him there. 

 

Derek was two steps to the door when Professor Forrester walked in. “Derek,” he grinned. “Just the man I was looking for,” he clapped Derek on the shoulder. Josh, with an arm full of paper work, shuffled past them, obviously late for the Biology class he was sitting in on today. “How are you?”

 

“Just coming to see you actually,” Derek said. The teacher nodded, a knowing smile on his face. 

 

“About the program?” Derek nodded sheepishly. “I’m afraid Professors Bradley and Callahan had to stick with their deadline and took on another student,” Derek frowned, leaning against his desk. “I understood, you know, why you didn’t want to leave,” he said, Derek looked up at him. 

 

“You did?” 

 

“I was young and in love once upon a time,” he smiled at him. “I’ve known you a while Derek, I know how much Stiles means to you, and I was honestly upset with myself that I didn’t think of it when I wrote your recommendation.” Professor Forrester reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope, looking at it and handing it to Derek. “I may have overstepped your decision, and entered you into the program anyway...”

 

“But you said...”

 

“Yale was out of the question, you’d hate Connecticut,” he smiled fondly. “I called another friend of mine, she’d love to have you, if you’re willing.” Derek read over the application Forrester sent in for him. “She’s a bit closer to home, I doubt it’ll be much of a hassle...”

 

“When do I start?” 

 

Later that evening, Derek came home to Stiles making spaghetti and burning garlic bread. “I’m sorry!” he shouted over the beeping of the fire alarm, though if it was directed toward him or the bread, Derek wasn’t sure. Stiles threw the window open and then grabbed the broom, whacking the flashing smoke alarm until it broke, and then slumped in the kitchen chair, coughing. 

 

“So...Chinese food then?” Derek signed when he got Stiles’ attention. Stiles replied by flipping him off. They sat at the table as black smoke made it’s way out the window. 

 

“Did you talk to your boss?” Stiles signed. Derek nodded. “And?”

 

“I got in the program,” he signed with a smile. Stiles beamed, waving his hands in front of his face as a sign of celebration. All too quickly, it faded though, as realization struck him. 

 

“So...you’re moving then...” he signed slowly, his face looked like he was trying to be happy about it, but the thought that Derek was leaving was starting to settle in. “Wow, Yale is far away...”

 

“Not going to Yale,” Derek shook his head. 

 

“But I thought...”

 

“Forrester called another friend of his,” he handed the envelope to Stiles, who read it carefully. 

 

“Stanford?” Stiles signed. Derek nodded. “Stanford one hour away Stanford?” Derek nodded again. "Stanford you don't have to move away Stanford!" Stiles leapt out of his chair to hug Derek, squeezing him tight and rocking him back and forth. 

 

“I’m so proud of you,” Stiles said, kissing his cheek. Derek grinned, hugging him tight. 

 

They decided to walk to the Chinese place, letting the apartment air out. “What would you have done?” Derek asked, almost dreading it as he began to sign, “If I had gotten the job at Yale, if I had moved there permanently?”

 

“I’d follow you,” Stiles signed simply. “If you’re off to make the best like you can for yourself, then I’m coming too, because I want to be a part of it.” Derek paused and pulled Stiles close to him, kissing him sweetly. 

 

“If I’m making the best life I can for myself, you’re always a part of it.” He beamed. “I love you.” 

 

“I love you too,” Stiles said, leaning up to kiss him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I took one Deaf Culture class at school, and I have three out of four years of ASL down. That's the extent of my deaf culture knowledge. If I get something wrong, I'm open to hearing more about it. 
> 
> Also, I made up that phone number, it's not real, I promise.


End file.
